Please Don't Say You Love Me
by ifyouevercomebackx
Summary: Where there is desire, there is going to be a flame. Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned.
1. Chapter 1

I have never liked sports bars.

The sweaty men sitting on their grimy stools at the bar while they scream at televisions mounted to the walls, drinking beer by the gallon, had never appealed to me. In college, when my roommate had insisted that the sports bar just off campus was the best place to meet guys, I ended up being groped and jeered at by workmen who had just trudged off a building site in ridiculous need of a shower.

Therefore, the fact that I'm waiting in a grungy booth with disgustingly stained upholstery for a guy I haven't seen in years is ridiculous.

When I had mentioned to Demi that I was sick of chasing around after guys who had no interest in settling down – which is exactly what I want from a relationship at this point in my life – she said she knew exactly the person who could help me.

I haven't seen her brother-in-law, Nick, since her wedding to Joe, but the vague recollections I have of him are not overly impressive. As she urged me to remember him, I could only picture a skinny boy with uncontrollably curly hair. As for his face? I hardly remember a thing. He's just this faceless stick in my mind, and it's driving me crazy, because I remember _everything_.

I drum my fingers on the table impatiently, then quickly retract my hand when I remember that the table probably hasn't been wiped down in days. The commentary of a baseball game blares as every other person in the bar, including the bartender, watches the game intently.

He's late. I hate people who are late.

The door of the bar swings open, and a man in his twenties walks in. He looks around, spots me, and saunters over without a care in the world.

"You must be Miley," he says. He sticks out his hand and flashes me a grin. "I'm Nick."

I look up at him. The faceless blur in my head comes into focus as I think about the scrawny kid at Demi's wedding. He has definitely grown up in the last few years. The small bush of curls that was once the only thing I remembered him by is gone, replaced by a much shorter style, though a hint of his curls is growing back. He has filled out – his muscles are a lot more defined than I recall. He clearly spent the last few years in the gym. Then I reach his eyes, and I take them in. After all, aren't eyes the main thing we remember people by? Apparently not. They are a deep shade of chocolate brown, glinting with an essence of cockiness and impertinence. Surely I would have remembered that distinct shade of brown.

"You're late," I snap.

He smirks and slides into the booth in the seat opposite me. "Sorry about that. Some chicks just don't know when to give up on a guy that isn't interested." He motions at the bartender and within moments, there is a bottle of beer in front of him.

"A regular?" I ask.

"Something like that."

I fold my hands in my lap, making a cautious effort not to touch the table. "Demi tells me that you can help me with my … dilemma."

"And she tells _me_ that you are another one of her desperate friends who is pushing thirty and can't find a guy that can stand to spend the rest of his life with you," he responds, taking a large gulp from his bottle of beer.

I gasp. "I am _not_ desperate!"

"Then, darlin', what are you doing sitting here with me?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm not paying you to be a sarcastic ass, thank you."

"Wow, Little Miss Uptight has a feisty side. I like it." Nick laughs and leans back in his seat. "So, why don't you tell me what your problem is? Because let me tell you, you aren't exactly hard on the eyes."

"It isn't a problem, per se."

"Just cut the crap and tell me why no man is willing to spend the rest of his life with you."

I blinked at his abrupt and rather harsh comment. "Well, thank you for that insightful revelation," I snarled. "If you must know, I'm very committed to my job, and it's hard to find someone who understands the demanding schedule of a lawyer. You, I'm sure, have no idea what it's like to have a real job, but for those of us who do and actually enjoy their occupation, it's hard to find somebody who doesn't mind when I choose my job over some idiotic dinner date."

He observes me carefully across the table and then slowly nods. "I totally get it now."

"Get what?"

"Why you're single." Nick grins and puts his beer bottle down on the table. "You see, Miley, for any man to fall in love with you, I'm pretty sure that you need to pull that stick out of your ass. Don't worry, it isn't your fault – I'm pretty sure it comes with the territory when you get a law degree – but for any man to actually want to spend the rest of his life with you, he needs to not have the need to strangle you every time you open your mouth."

I gasp, shocked. "You rude, obnoxious little –"

"I'm honest, honey. If you don't like that, you know where the door is." He sighs and looks me over once more. "I'm going to have a lot of work to do with you, aren't I? And I can already tell that you're going to be a difficult one. If I didn't owe Demi a favor, I definitely would not be spending my Friday night with a client."

"Okay, thank you. I don't need a commentary of your inner thoughts."

He grins, flashing those dimples that would have knocked me into next week had he not already revealed what an ass he was. "You really do have a feisty streak, don't you? As difficult as you're going to be, I have a feeling that I'm really going to enjoy this."

I roll my eyes at him and run my finger along the stem of my wine glass. "So where do we go from here? You know what I want."

"Actually, I'm not quite sure what you want."

"I told you – someone who understands that sometimes my job is going to have to come first."

He smiles again and shakes his head. "I have had dozens of clients just like you, and they all want the same thing. They're so attached to their jobs that they aren't willing to sacrifice a little time at the office for a nice guy. Your options here are finding some nauseatingly dull man who puts you to sleep every time he opens his mouth or a man who is as attached to his job as you are to yours. If you're so sure about what you want, I'm going to need a little more detail."

"I don't know in detail," I say.

"Well then, we're just going to have to make do with whatever I decide, aren't we?" Nick takes a drink from his beer bottle again and points across the room at a beefy looking man in paint-stained jeans and a wife-beater. "I'm assuming that we're aiming to stay away from that sort of guy?"

"I'm not in the mood for your jokes and games. Are you going to be serious about this or are you just going to turn it all into some big laugh?"

His face softens for a moment, and for just an ounce of a second, I can see the glimmer of a man who may actually have a desire for something more than money and meaningless sex. Then that obnoxious smirk returns as he leans back in his seat and keeps his eyes glued to me, and the moment dissipates like a puff of smoke.

"Well, it's pretty hard to not make a few jokes here and there," he teases.

"If you weren't Demi's brother-in-law, I swear –"

"What? You'd take me to court? For what, exactly?" He laughs and leans across the table to look me straight in the eye. "Let me get this straight, sweetheart. Right now, I'm your only chance of getting married before you hit thirty. Let's face it – your biological clock is ticking, just like every other woman out there. There are about a million other girls in this city who would willingly drop everything and become some perfect little homemaker for some high-powered career man. You're going to have to do a hell of a lot to compete with those girls, so why don't you just have a little bit of sense and listen to me? Because I sure know a hell of a lot more about this thing than you do."

"Don't call me sweetheart."

He bellows with laughter this time and slumps back in his seat. "Out of all that, the only thing you can tell me is to not call you sweetheart? Well, Demi was damn right when she said you're stubborn."

"Demi said that?"

"Among other things," Nick says softly.

"Like what?"

"Ah, now that would be breaking my darling sister-in-law's trust, wouldn't it?" He smiles and puts his empty bottle down on the table, pushing it back and forth across the polished would between his hands. "She was right when she said that you have the potential to be every man's dream, that's for sure."

"_Potential_?"

"Well, if you want to be every man's dream, you're going to have to do some bits and pieces. Like that pantsuit. Pantsuits were never in fashion. In fact, they're a crime against humanity, so why don't you burn that piece of crap when you go home?"

"A pantsuit is practical!"

"For what? The convent? That thing is like some desperate cock-block for women whose friends have crawled into bar corners with strangers and can no longer protect them the night before they join the nunnery."

"And what would you suggest I wear to work, huh? Hot pants and a crop top?"

He grins cheekily. "That would be ideal, yes. Damn, can you imagine the courtrooms if you came into work dressed like that?" He chuckled, then stopped at my frowning expression. "I'm kidding, Miley. Chill." He sighs and folds his arms across his chest. "Okay, step two after the elimination of the pantsuit. A smile does the world of good, you know."

"Smiling is overrated."

"Apparently smiling and the pantsuit are in the same boat here."

That earns the faintest hint of a laugh from me. He's such an ass that a hint is all he deserves, even if he does have a sense of humor. Guys like that don't need their egos inflated any more than they already are.

Nick rises to his feet and grabs a paper napkin from the holder against the wall. He pulls a pen from his pocket and scribbles a phone number down. "This is my cell. I assume that Demi hasn't given you my number yet. I'll get yours from her and call you about our next meeting."

"And what exactly will this meeting entail?"

He grins and winks down at me. "How about we keep that a surprise? Let's just say that it's the beginning of step three."

"And step three is?"

"All part of the surprise, my dear." He slides the napkin across the table to me and straightens up. "I'll be in touch," he promises. He puts a twenty-dollar bill down on the table to cover our drinks and then backs away from the table.

I watch him as he walks from the bar, weaving through the crowd of shouting man gathered in front of the television screens. The large group seems to part especially for him. Perhaps it's that light in his eyes when he smiles, or maybe those dimples have the same effect on hard-working laborers as they do on women. All I know is that Nick has an impact on everyone in that bar that's so different to what I remember from the wedding.

At the wedding, I hardly even spoke to him. As best man and maid of honor, we probably should have spent a lot of time together, but we didn't. He was the brother of the groom and I was the best friend of the bride. Since Joe didn't have a huge part in the planning of the wedding, neither did his brother. There was never any need for me to remember him.

But those eyes and those dimples … Even on a kid who was making his way through the motions of college, those were some pretty memorable features. The only question left to ask was why on earth there was such a blank spot in my mind when it came to Nick.


	2. Chapter 2

**I just want to warn everybody before the story progresses any further that this story is rated M for a reason – Nick isn't exactly an angel in this and there definitely will be sex scenes in future, so if you don't like vulgar/crude language or if you have anything against sex scenes in stories, please try to either overlook it or not read the story.**

* * *

"So, how was your meeting with Nick?"

I glare across the table at Demi. If my best friend wasn't six months pregnant, I would definitely hit her right about now. She has that stupid grin plastered across her face that she uses whenever she thinks she's right about something. This is most definitely something that Demi was not right about.

"You have an ass of a brother-in-law."

"Oh, I knew that," she says with a wave of her hand. "But he's a genius. You know Phil, Marcia's husband? That entire thing was totally down to Nick."

"And how exactly did that one work out?"

"Well, Marcia came to me and said she wanted to settle down, so I sent her to Nick. He walked her through it all, then she was engaged six months after she met Phil at a bar with Nick." Demi grins once again. "I cannot wait to see who he finds for you!"

I try to tell myself to hold back, but Nick's words in the bar are gnawing away at me and I suddenly find myself puking up word vomit. "Is it true that you said I had _potential_?" I snap.

She pauses, freezing before she can lift her up of tea to her lips. "Well, don't you?"

"You always told me that I shouldn't have to change myself just to find a husband, Dem."

"I know. I stand by that statement," she answers, then sighs defeatedly. "But you know me, Mi. I'm an optimist. I want you to find someone who makes you happy." She pauses again then shakes her head. "I just think you need to cut back on the hours at work and maybe put yourself out there a little more. Maybe change your wardrobe up a little."

"I do put myself out there!"

"Sure you do. In the courtroom. In there, you're like this crazy lioness going in for the kill. You can take anybody down. But out here in the real world? Not so much." Demi sips her tea and smiles sadly. "I'm trying to do what's best for you here by helping you out with the whole Nick thing. Just do me a favor and listen to Nick, okay? He really does know what he's talking about."

"That man is an obnoxious, self-absorbed, incompetent –"

"Genius. He's a genius, Miley, whether you want to admit that or not. You can call him obnoxious and self-absorbed and incompetent all you want, but he knows better than anyone what he's taking about when it comes to relationships. Give the guy a shot. I promise that, if things still aren't going well with him in a month, I'll let you give up on him. But give him some time to work his magic and you'll see what I'm talking about," she says.

I sigh dramatically. "I don't know, Dem. It sounds like a hell of a lot of money going down the drain."

She grins at me across the table. "Trust me, this money will not be wasted. In fact, it will be the best money you've ever spent, so long as you do exactly what he says and don't push his advice aside."

"Why are you so sure that he knows what he's talking about?"

"Who do you think helped Joe the entire time we were dating?"

I think back to when we were in college and Demi had just started dating Joe, who was in his second year of medical school. I remember thinking that he had come up with the sweetest and most romantic dates I had ever heard about. I had put it all down to the fact that he was older and more experienced than we were. Surely all of that couldn't be down to Nick.

"But that picnic on the beach –"

"All Nick."

"And the hot air balloon?"

"Courtesy of my darling brother-in-law."

I gape at her and lift my cup of coffee to my mouth. "Well, I'll be damned," I murmur.

"Do you believe me now?" she asks teasingly. "He even came up with the idea for Joe's proposal. I should probably be offended that he wasn't creative enough to come up with it himself, but it was just so romantic that I don't really care who came up with it."

I remember the day Demi got engaged like it was yesterday. To most people, it probably sounds cheesy, but as I recall, it was the proposal girls dreamed of as children when their mothers read them fairytales. It was Valentine's Day in Joe's final year of medical school. He had sent Demi on a treasure hunt around town, finishing in his apartment with Joe on one knee.

"Nick came up with that?"

"You're damn right he did. See, he isn't so bad, is he?"

"I wouldn't go that far."

Demi laughs and rests her hand on her round stomach. "He's helping Joe with the nursery, you know," she gushes.

I pause. "Why are you so set on making me like Nick?"

"Because I have known you since we were kids, and I know that unless you feel like you like him and can trust him, you aren't going to let him help you. And you need him to help you, Mi."

"I –"

"You came to me for help, and I sent you to him. Give him a shot, okay?" She stands up and brings a plate of cookies over to the table. "So, when do you meet him again?"

"Tonight, actually."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Same disgusting sports bar as last time, I hear."

Demi laughs. "You have no clue, do you?"

"What?"

"I'll let you work that one out on your own," she answers with a wink. "That one certainly has some secrets up his sleeve."

"You're killing me here."

Demi chuckles and shakes her head. "Trust me, when you find out everything there is to know about Nick, you definitely won't be thinking that he's arrogant or obnoxious or whatever else you think he is."

* * *

I walk into the bar and look around. Nick is sitting in the same booth as our last meeting, observing everyone in the bar with a casual stare. His eyes find me amongst the crowd of construction workers and he smiles. He lifts his hand in a lazy wave and motions for me to join him.

I make my way over to the booth and sit down across from him. "Why are we back here?"

He ignores my question and gestures to a tall glass of wine. "I got you the same as last time. Hope you don't mind." He lifts his beer bottle to his lips and takes a gulp. "So, how are you today?"

"Can we skip the pleasantries please? Just tell me why we're back here."

He regards me intensely for a moment, then says, "You are going to show me how you pick up guys."

I freeze. "What?" I hiss.

"You're going to show me how you approach guys in a bar. Did I stutter?" He smiles amusedly and leans back in his seat. "I'm going to pick a guy, you're going to go up to him and then I will step in when I think that I've seen enough."

"I am _not_ doing that."

"You'll do it if you want to get married within the next decade."

I purse my lips tightly and glare at him. "I don't need to show you how I approach guys in order to find a husband."

"Actually, you kind of do," he replies. "I need to see what you're doing wrong so that we can fix it." He leans over the table and undoes two buttons on my blouse. "There. Take off that blazer too and then you're good to go."

"I could get you done for sexual harassment for doing that."

"You could. But you won't."

I glare at him and say, "I'm not going to go up to some random guy and try to pick him up."

"Yes, you are." Nick surveys the room. His eyes zone in on one man leaning against the bar on his own. "That guy," he commands.

"No way."

He taps my ankle with the toe of his shoe and smiles. "I promise that I'll save you if things get too heavy."

I sigh and down the rest of my drink quickly. "I am not comfortable with this."

"You don't have to be comfortable with it. You just have to do it so I can observe and take a few mental notes. Now go before I lose my patience with you."

I shoot him a death glare, then reluctantly get up from my seat and make my way across the wooden floor of the bar. I stop beside the man Nick picked out and clear my throat awkwardly.

"Hello."

"Hi," the man says, hardly even looking at me, his attention still pointed at the screen playing tonight's baseball game.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

That seems to grab his attention, because he looks away from the sports game on the television and turns his focus to me. "Aren't I supposed to be the one asking you that question?" he asks, a lewd smile slowly creeping across his face.

"Perhaps," I stutter.

"So, what's your name?"

"Miley."

"That's unusual."

I've been told how unusual my name is since I was in kindergarten. I don't need some filthy, sweaty, lecherous creep in a scummy bar to tell me too.

"I know. My dad used to call me 'Smiley' as a baby, and eventually the 's' was dropped and I just became Miley."

He nods, clearly pretending to be interested but really not giving a rat's ass. "That sounds awesome," he says distractedly, the lying and disinterested tone blatant. "So, how about that drink? What are you having?" He looks at me again. "Or would you rather just leave right now?" he adds with a perverted wink.

Before I can answer, I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, sis. Dad will be here soon."

I turn quickly and find Nick standing behind me, a false smile plastered across his face. He gently nudges me away from the man at the bar and steps in front of me to keep me away from the creep who is still watching me lustfully.

"I was just about to buy the lady a drink," the man says, looking Nick up and down.

"I've already got her one, thank you. We'll just be leaving now." He steers me away from the bar and back to our booth.

"So we're siblings now?"

"When there are pigs like him hanging around, yes."

"Well, how did I do?"

"For a start, you should avoid going into the detailed history of the origins of your name," he answers drily.

I glare at him. "What else was I supposed to talk about? Any idiot can tell that I have absolutely nothing in common with that man."

"You spoke to him for about ninety seconds. Therefore, you have no clue how much or how little you have in common with that guy, so how about you drop your prejudices against construction workers before we talk over everything that went badly with that conversation back there?" he answers. "Apart from the history of the name 'Miley', you might want to loosen up. You looked like a walking plank."

"Don't hold back now," I mutter sarcastically.

"If I hold back, how are you going to learn?" he asks. Nick then glances over at the man we left standing at the bar and smirks over at me. "A little touching wouldn't go amiss either."

"Excuse me? I'm not going to touch someone I just met in some bar, thank you very much!"

"I'm not talking about grabbing him or anything, Miley. All I'm suggesting is touching his shoulder or his arm or something. It would be an improvement to standing there with your arms folded like you don't want to be here."

"I _don't_ want to be here."

He observes me carefully. "Maybe that's the problem. You just have such an issue with this place and the people in it that you're reluctant to actually cooperate."

"I am not reluctant to cooperate!"

"Then how about you start doing us both a favour and listen to what I've got to say?"

I roll my eyes subtly and take a sip of wine to calm myself down. "Now that you've seen how I approach guys, why don't you tell me what our next step is?"

"Burning the pantsuit."

"Is that a literal or a metaphorical suggestion?"

"That's your own choice," he answers with a cheeky wink.

"We'll go with metaphorical." I narrow my eyes suspiciously at him. "So tell me, where are we really going from here?"

"Well, you and I are going shopping tomorrow."

"How do you know I don't already have plans for tomorrow?"

"I got Demi to check your schedule," he responds. "And even if you did have plans, I guess you'd just have to reschedule, wouldn't you?" He smiles cockily across the table at me and says, "And after we redress you completely, you and I are going to a party."

"Why do I have to purchase a new wardrobe?"

"A man looks at a woman based on their appearance. Sure, personality and all that crap matters, but a dude isn't going to get the chance to know your personality unless you reel him in first, and to reel him in, you need to actually make him want to look at you. Therefore, I am going to help you find some clothes that men actually find attractive rather than those damn pantsuits you insist on wearing."

"I still do not understand why you hold such a grudge against pantsuits."

"Because while a man should have a hard-on looking at a woman he finds attractive, a pantsuit has the opposite effect."

"You sicken me."

"No, my honesty sickens you. There's a huge difference there."

I roll my eyes yet again and focus my attention back on Nick. "Back to my point. Why are we going to a party tomorrow night? Aren't we getting a little bit ahead of ourselves?"

"My parents are having a party to celebrate the baby. There's no better opportunity," he answers.

"But –"

"No buts. You would be going anyway, right? The only difference is that you're going to spend the night with me, and I am going to introduce you to all of Joe's mind-numbingly boring doctor friends."

I glare at Nick. "Just because they are doctors does not mean they are boring."

"Perhaps not, but I've met Joe's friends, and they're almost as dull as watching paint dry," he says. Something across the room catches his eye, and he smirks to himself. "I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early at ten thirty."

"Putting 'early' and 'ten thirty' in the same sentence is a bit of an oxymoron, don't you think?"

"Whatever you say," he chuckles. "Well, I've got to dash. See you tomorrow, Miss Miley." He flashes me a quick wink, grabs his beer bottle and slides out of the booth, walking away from me.

As I gather my things and prepare to leave, I glance across the room at Nick. He's leaning close to some tall blonde in denim cut-offs and a tight t-shirt. I roll my eyes – he's just the kind of guy I've been trying to avoid. All he seems to do is chase after women for sex all the time, and I just do not understand how or why he does it.

He doesn't even lift his head to look at me as I walk past him and out of the bar. It could be that I'm right in keeping my distance from Nick. In fact, I know that I'm right in keeping my distance, because I know that if I ever came to be friends with him, I would find myself hating him within days.


	3. Chapter 3

**I suck at taking a break for exams.**

* * *

Call me old-fashioned, but punctuality is a pretty big thing for me. If I cannot rely on someone to meet me at the appointed time, how can I possibly trust them with anything else in my life? It isn't as though I demand much other than a prompt arrival and some manners.

For that reason, Nick being over twenty minutes late for meeting me outside my apartment building is absolutely despicable.

"Good mornin', princess."

I spin around and see Nick smirking at me, hands stuffed into his pockets and a beanie pulled down over his hair.

"You're late," I snap.

"You seem to say that a lot."

"You seem to be late a lot."

"I had some business to take care of." He glances at his watch and smiles. "We have some time for coffee before your appointment."

"My appointment?"

"You and I are going to a salon."

"Why exactly?"

"Let's just say that I've been talking to Demi about how often you get your hair done, and it wasn't exactly a great answer," he responds.

"There's nothing beneficial in spending hundreds of dollars a year for some stranger to do something that you can do yourself for free."

"Oh, trust me, it's beneficial."

Nick turns into a coffee shop just around the corner and heads straight for the register. "What do you want?" he asks.

"Caramel latte," I answer, pulling out my wallet from my purse and standing beside him.

"Go and grab a table. I'll buy your coffee," he replies.

I know I should be grateful that this man is buying me my coffee, and I know that it's an incredibly trivial thing to point out, but buying a woman coffee isn't a very 'Nick' thing to do. His gestures in the past few days have consisted more of telling me that everything I do is wrong in trying to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. This is the man who spends his life changing things about women for a profit with no other real source of income. His polite offer catches me off guard.

"I can pay for –"

"Didn't your parents ever tell you to just let a guy pay for you?" Nick smirks and shakes his head. "Just sit down, princess. It's not a big deal."

I make my way to a table in the back corner and sit down, watching him as he soon follows me over with our drinks and sits down opposite me.

"So how about you tell me all about your issues with me?" he asks abruptly.

"Excuse me?" I gasp.

"Why the whole 'frigid bitch' attitude? Because I have it on good authority, i.e. Demi, that you are not really like that with everyone. If you were, someone like Demi would never even give you a second glass, never mind a friendship that has lasted as long as yours. So, tell me - what's your story? What have you got against me?"

"Who says that I have anything against you?"

"Cut the crap, Miley. You hate my guts."

I pause for a moment. "I don't hate _you_. It's more about what you stand for."

"What I stand for?" he asks, chuckling at me over the rim of his coffee cup. "So I stand for something in particular, do I?"

"Yes! You make money from the vulnerabilities of others. You spend your time changing things that are completely fine the way they are. Quite frankly, I just see it as an odd way to want to spend the rest of your life. I can't begin to comprehend why you insist on fixing things that aren't broken to begin with."

"You don't think you're broken?"

I glare at him.

He laughs and nods. "So basically, you think that I exploit the vulnerable people in society?"

"Don't twist my words."

"That's what I took from what you said to me. Look, don't even begin to tell me that you're not as broken as the rest of them. If you weren't, you would never have had reason to come to me." He sighs and leans closer to me. "Do you know what? You may see it as some form of sick exploitation, but what I do for women like you is helping them. The way I see it, I help them to find happiness. If you call that exploitation then fine, but I'm proud of what I do for those women."

"And what are you going to do when you settle down and your kids need their dad to speak at career day?"

"That's simple. I don't plan on settling down."

"How on earth could you not want to settle down?" I ask incredulously.

"It's simple, really. Marriage is messy, and it's even messier when there are kids involved. It's not my kind of thing."

I stare at him, completely dumbfounded. "How can you make a living from helping women find husbands if you don't even believe in marriage yourself?"

Nick smiles and looks into his cup, as if it's some kind of crystal ball or the last dregs of coffee will provide him with an endless supply of answers. "There you go again; you act like a lawyer and completely twist what I say to suit your own point." He glances back at me. "It isn't that I don't believe in marriage itself. I do. Joe and Demi are a perfect example of how marriage can make your love for someone that much more solid and permanent. It's just not for me. I'm not sure that there's any need for a piece of paper to show that your love for someone is real. Things don't always last, but it doesn't mean that your love for them was ever any weaker than someone's love for their husband or wife. It just means that circumstances changed things and it wasn't possible for the relationship to last as long."

"That's not what marriage is about."

"Isn't it? You get married for love, right? And it's supposed to be some sort of permanent contract with God or the law or whatever you want to believe in. But nobody really needs to _prove_ their love. You show your love for someone through words and actions, not through meaningless papers."

"And the vows a couple take on their wedding day aren't the perfect words to show your love for someone?" I shake my head. "I just cannot figure you out. How can you aim to help women settle down when you don't think that marriage is a necessity?"

"For some people, I guess that it is. There are women out there who have this perfect vision of how their lives should be. You're a prime example, I guess. You want that perfect husband with the perfect little children in the perfect suburbs with this whole freaking perfect life. Some people need that picture to become their reality. But me? I think that, if I loved someone, I wouldn't need any of that. All I would need would be them, married or unmarried," Nick explains. "That way, if things don't pan out the way you expected them to and things end, you can part ways without all the heartache and drama that comes with divorce."

"But you don't want kids?"

He pauses. "I love kids, and I can't wait to be an uncle," he admits. "But my own kids? I don't think so. I don't think I could deal with that."

"Deal with what, exactly?"

"Kids look up to their parents. My dad was my hero when I was growing up. I can't help but think that I would be this huge disappointment to them ..." He trails off, then clears his throat. "What is this – twenty questions? I thought you were a lawyer, not a psychologist, so can you please stop trying to psychoanalyse me?We're here for you, princess, not me. Let's get back that attitude of yours."

I can't work him out. He can go from pouring his heart out in one moment and then back to normal with a snap of his fingers. I won't lie: our conversation had set off an entire flock of birds in my ribcage, whilst also bringing me crashing down to earth. Nick has this insatiable charm that any women would long to have in a husband, and even though he drives me insane most of the time, I can't act like it wouldn't be nice to spend some more time with him.

"I do not have an attitude!"

Nick laughs, a deep chuckle that could almost make someone forget how irritating he can be. "Stop giving me that crap! Daddy issues?" he asks.

"More like mommy issues."

"Oh, do share."

I hesitate. Nick and I barely know each other, and here we are, bearing our life secrets to one another. I'm hesitant about telling him about my mom. The only people I have ever confided in about her are Demi and my father. I only have my mother to thank for my inability to relax, and I've never really been close enough to anyone else to tell them that. But Nick has this draw that makes you trust him automatically, and I know that he would never use what happened with my mother against me.

"My mother left us when I was seven years old. She met some club promoter on the East Coast. I spent every summer for the next ten years with her and her new boyfriend. They partied all summer and left me to take care of myself. I promised that I would never turn out like her, hence why I worked my ass off to get through law school and make something of myself."

"Shit, Miley, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"Yeah, wiping up my own mother's vomit after one of her nights of drinking and drugs isn't something I like to brag about."

"That's messed up, princess."

"My mother is a pretty messed up woman."

Nick leans back in his chair and shakes his head. "Is it screwed up that the most depressing conversation between us is possibly the most pleasant one we've had yet?"

"Probably."

He laughs again, and it sets off this strange sensation in my stomach. I would call it butterflies, but I can safely assume that I stopped getting 'butterflies' when I was fourteen and had my first kiss with the kid across the street.

"How about you stop talking about your unwillingness to settle down and my mommy issues and get back to your usual irritating self?"

"Oh, so you admit that you like my jokes?"

"Who's being a lawyer now?"

Nick grins. "You certainly grew a funny bone overnight, huh?" He checks his watch and stands up. "We should get going. Your appointment is in ten minutes."

I followed him out of the coffee shop and down the street, wrapped up more in my thoughts than where he's leading us. Everything that happened in that little coffee shop spins around in my head like a hurricane, blasting everything I ever thought about him out of the water. There is more to Nick than what I had originally concluded. He actually has reasons for wanting to set these women up – apart from the money, that is – and he actually cares about what drives someone to turn to him for help. And there was me thinking that he only did it for kicks.

My impression of Nick before our talk was admittedly a little harsh. I never even gave him a chance to prove himself to be anything but the obnoxious, egotistical imbecile I thought he was, but our talk had just given me the opportunity to see him as more than what I had previously been willing to.

"Princess?"

I snap out of my thoughts and look up. "Sorry, what?"

"We're here."

I look up at the salon. I have to admit, it looks expensive. I purchased my apartment earlier this year, so I don't have that much money to spend on an upscale salon. Gold cursive on the red awning declares that we are standing outside 'RED'.

_How freaking original._

Noticing the apprehensive expression on my face, Nick smiles. "Don't worry," he says. "A friend of mine is the owner. She gives me a discount for my clients."

I don't bother to ask whether the discount is due to the high volume of clients he has brought along.

Nick opens the door and motions for me to lead the way. I take a step into the salon and look around. Noticing a price list, I glance at it. I was definitely correct about the cost.

A small woman comes out of a room behind the reception desk and looks at us. "Well, Nicholas, who have you brought me this time?"

"This is Miley," Nick responds. "She was actually Demi's maid of honour."

The woman stops in her tracks. "You know Demi and Joe?"

"Yes."

She comes hurtling around the desk and engulfs me in a huge hug. "Well, any friend of theirs is a friend of mine! Come on in and take a seat." She steers me down the room to a hair station and forces me down into the seat. "I'm Vanessa. I've known those boys since they were in diapers. What do you want me to do?"

"Demi said she hasn't been to a salon in two years," Nick calls, following us down.

Vanessa stops, a lock of my hair in her hand. "Honey, how have you gone two years without getting your hair done? You're lucky this boy brought you to me when he did!"

"I just haven't had the time, I suppose."

"I guess you're going to have to make the time now, because I am not letting you get away with that from here on out!"

Nick sits at the station beside mine, resting his feet on the tabletop. "Use your best judgment, Ness."

"Well, I obviously would not trust you to decide what to do with her!" Vanessa looks down at me through the mirror and smiles. "So what's a pretty girl like you doing running around with this dumbass?"

"She's a lawyer," Nick answers for me.

"And?"

"You know lawyers, Ness. No time for anyone but themselves," he replies with a wink in my direction.

"Miley, sweetie, you don't need him to find yourself a man. Don't waste your money," Vanessa says, swatting Nick with a hairbrush.

I watch as Nick engages with Vanessa, teasing her and making jokes. I just don't understand how he can switch his personality as fast as lightning. How can someone go from being so raw and so honest to being this joking person who doesn't seem to take anything seriously?

"What's your plan after this?" Vanessa asks Nick.

"Taking her shopping. She needs something to wear for my parents' party tonight. All of Joe's doctor friends will be there."

"And that's what you want, is it?" she asks, turning her attention back to me. "One of Joe's doctor friends?"

"I suppose I do, yes."

Vanessa regards me carefully; her eyes slightly narrowed as she analyses me. "Hm, I had you down for wanting someone carefree to loosen you up a little. Someone who could take your mind off that job of yours."

I know what she is getting at, and she is right. I suppose that, in some sort of way, opposites attract. I'm supposed to want someone who can calm me down and give me some kind of escape from my job. But that's not what I need. What I need is someone who understands how important my job is. Someone who can relate to that and who will be able to support that. Carefree does not always mean understanding.

"I'm not exactly a carefree person."

"You can say that again," Nick scoffs.

Vanessa stares daggers at him. "Don't listen to him, sweetie. I'm pretty sure his mother dropped him on his head when he was a baby."

"As I was saying," I continue with a pointed glare at Nick. "I'm not a carefree person, and my job consumes me. I need somebody who can understand that. Unfortunately, nobody like that has come along yet, so Demi sent me to Nick."

"And you say he's not doing a bad job?"

I look over to find him watching me cautiously, patiently waiting for my response.

"I suppose not."

* * *

Shopping has never been my forte, but even I know that spending hundreds of dollars in one day is not a good sign, especially with the care I need to take with my disposable income lately. Somehow, Nick manages to coerce me into spending a small fortune on clothes that I never would have considered if he hadn't shoved it into my arms and insisted I buy it.

We arrive back at my apartment building, laden down with bags. He helps me to bring them up to my apartment and looks at the time on the clock on the wall.

"We haven't got much time before we have to get going for the party. Is it cool if I change here?"

"Where are your clothes?"

"In my car. I don't really have time to head back to my place and get ready."

"It's fine," I answer.

"Thanks," he says with a smile. He looks down at the bags and seems to think for a moment. "Wear that dress. The doctors love a good show."

I open my mouth to answer, but he has already disappeared back out the door.

I grab my bags and stumble into the bedroom, flinging them down onto the bed. I find the dress Nick was talking about and pull it from the bag. I lift it to my body and look in the mirror.

"What was I thinking?" I murmur.

The dress is way out of my comfort zone and so completely not me that I find it hard to believe that I agreed to buy it in the first place. The navy shirt dress reaches mid-thigh and has an embellished collar with beads and sequins. It's the last thing that someone like me would spend money on, but according to Nick, that's a good thing.

I pull off my clothes from the day and yank the dress over my head. I have to admit that Nick was right when he said it looks good on me. Even if it hugely puts me out of my comfort zone, it transforms my own perception of myself.

I lift my fingers to my newly done hair – courtesy of Vanessa – and pull the newly blonde waves to one side. I walk over to another bag and pull out a pair of nude heels; something else that Nick insisted was a necessity for a woman.

I apply some make-up and then look at my reflection in the mirror. It's like a different person is staring back at me.

"It suits you."

I whip around at the sound of the voice, gasping in shock.

I spot Nick leaning against the door. He smirks and takes a step into my room. "The look. It suits you way better than that stick-up-your ass lawyer thing you were going for before."

"Thank you," I stutter, unsure of what to say.

"You're welcome." He steps back and smiles. "I'm just going to get changed and then we can get going, okay?" He disappears from the room.

Something has happened today between us. It's hard to put into words. Sometimes, there are moments in life that you just cannot explain. Whether it is the way those moments make you feel or the consequences of those moments, you cannot explain it. Today has been one of those moments. Throughout the day, Nick and I have had a series of moments, whether it was in the coffee shop or in the salon or in my apartment. I'm not naïve enough to believe that I can change him; that I can make him change his perspective or reconsider his beliefs. But even though he drives me crazy, his honesty in that coffee shop has changed something, and I can't help but feel something for that man.

Somebody help me.


	4. Chapter 4

I know Joe's parents' house well. When he and Demi were planning the wedding, I was here every Thursday afternoon without fail to meet Demi and their mothers for some planning. It was where they had their wedding reception. At the time, I had even developed some kind of friendship with Joe's mother over place settings and flower arrangements.

When Nick pulls up outside his family's home, I look up at the huge house and smile from all the memories I had made there with Demi.

"Are you okay?" Nick asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm fine," I answer. "I was just thinking of all the time Demi and I spent here before the wedding." I turn to him and pause for a moment. "Why can't I remember you from the wedding? I was the maid of honour, and you were Joe's best man. How can I not remember you?"

He smiles and shrugs. "I've changed a lot since the wedding."

"How so?"

Nick chuckles. "When Joe and Demi were getting married, I was still some scrawny little college kid who hadn't even decided what he was going to major in. These days, I don't exactly resemble the person I was back then."

"I just don't understand how I can't remember anything about your face. You can't possibly have changed that much."

He gets out of the car and comes around the front, quickly opening my door for me. "I may have been the best man, but I lurked around in the background a lot at that wedding."

We start to cross the gravel at the front of the house. He offers his arm so I don't lose my balance, a gesture I am incredibly grateful for as I teeter through the small stones in my heels.

"So you don't remember me at all, huh?"

"I'm sorry, no."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Well, I sure remember you."

"You do?"

"Of course. You were running around throughout the entire reception and trying to make sure that everything was perfect for Demi. Then, of course, you got insanely drunk." He chuckles at the memory. "I watched you that night, and I didn't think you were anything like how you came across when we met at the bar the other night."

"You didn't?"

"I guess not. I remember you finishing your wild goose chase around the party, and then you just went straight to the dance floor. You looked so carefree that night. You were throwing back drinks and dancing with your friends like there was tomorrow. That was the girl I expected to meet when Demi said you needed my help. I won't lie – when Demi said her maid of honour needed me, I was thinking, _Damn, how can someone like her need my _help? I was definitely expecting not this woman who can hardly even look at me without thinking that I'm some kind of pig."

"I never once said that!"

He smiles over at me cheekily and winks. "I know that you think it. You disapprove of my appreciation of women."

"I disapprove of the way in which you choose to appreciate them, not the actual appreciation of them."

"Is that not the same thing?" He smiles down at me. "Besides, you have made it pretty clear that you don't agree with the way in which I choose to live my life."

We arrive at the front door of the house, and Nick puts his hand on the doorknob. "Okay, hold up for one second." He looks at me and sighs. "I have to ask one question. It's part of the job, I guess. Tonight, you are taking a giant step forward in this thing. I just want you to be sure that this is definitely what you want; a doctor, that perfect life. I don't want you to change your mind two months down the line and decide that you want some crazy biker dude." He hesitates and scratches the back of his neck. "So, are you sure?"

I look at him, and my heart rate quickens slightly. He cares. Okay, I admit that perhaps 'care' is a bit of a strong word to use. However, to some extent, no matter how small that extent is, Nick cares about what is best for me in this twisted situation. Maybe he cares more about how my decisions will impact him and his paycheck, but isn't that still a form of caring? Perhaps I'm overanalysing it, but his words have only added something else to the existing atmosphere between us today.

"I'm sure," I respond softly.

He turns the doorknob and nods. "Okay then. Mission a-go."

Nick pushes open the door and releases the chatter and chinking glasses from inside the house. He steps inside and closes the door after us. He then follows the noise into the open plan living room.

His mother, Denise, spots us immediately.

"Nicholas! You brought a date?"

"Actually, no. This is Miley. You know her, right? Demi's maid of honour."

Denise smiles warmly at me. "Miley, honey, I hardly recognised you! Have you done something with your hair? I haven't seen you in months! How have you been keeping, darling?"

"Vanessa did the hair for her, actually," Nick answers.

"Ah, Vanessa is around here somewhere, so I'm sure you'll be talking to her this evening. She will be delighted with how this turned out!" She steers us further into the party and stops at the edge of the small crowd of people occupying her home. "And what are you doing here with my Nicholas?"

"He –"

"I actually met her outside. We pulled in at the exact same time, and we remembered each other from the wedding."

I look at Nick in confusion, but his face is straight, giving nothing away as he looks his mother straight in the eye and lies right to her face.

"My baby, the gentleman. How is the business doing?"

"It's doing great."

"I'm glad to hear that." Denise beams as she pats Nick's cheek lovingly. She looks at me and says, "Well, sweetheart, I hope you enjoy the party. Nick will show you where the drinks and food are. I will see you later."

I watch her step away, then hiss at Nick, "What the hell –"

"Ssh!" Nick silences me with a hand and watches his mother until she is at the other side of the room. He then turns to me. "What?"

"Why the hell did you just lie to your mother? And what was she talking about a business for?"

He hesitates for a moment, as though considering how trustworthy I am for a moment, then responds. "She doesn't know what I do for a living, okay? She thinks I've been working at some marketing firm downtown for the last couple of years."

"Why on earth would you lie to your mother?"

Nick glances at her over my shoulder and sighs. "She would be heartbroken if she knew what my job really was. Actually, scratch heartbroken. She would be disgusted. The only people in my family who know are Demi and Joe. It isn't exactly something I broadcast at family reunions, you know?"

"And the business?"

"Well, I'm not stupid enough for this to be my only source of income. But that's a story for another day."

I rush after him as he makes his way into the kitchen and find him grabbing a beer from the fridge. "I kind of want to hear that story now."

"Well then, sucks to be you, doesn't it, darlin'?"

I open my mouth to respond, but Demi chooses that exact moment to walk into the kitchen, her hand resting on her swollen stomach. She catches sight of me and squeals.

"I was starting to wonder if you were going to show! You look amazing, Mi! Good job, Nick!" She engulfs me in a huge bear hug, rocking me from side-to-side. "This night is torturous. Everyone asks the exact same questions – whether it's a boy or a girl, when the baby is due, whether we have any name ideas. It makes me want to down a glass of champagne, but then I remember that I'm not allowed to drink thanks to Joseph's sperm!"

"Takes two to tango," Nick says with a wink.

"Shut it before I rip off your balls with my bare hands," Demi growls.

"Geez, you're bitchy when you're hormonal." He takes a drink from his beer and pulls himself up onto a kitchen counter. "Where is my darling big brother? Mingling with his doctor buddies?"

"Yes, actually. Why do you ask?" Demi asks suspiciously.

"Your friend and I were going to get working on the husband hunt," he answers.

"Is this really the place? I thought you didn't want your mom to find out," she says.

"And she won't. All I will be doing is introducing a friend to some eligible bachelors. How can my mom possibly guess what is going on from that?"

"Your mother is a lot smarter than you give her credit for, Nicholas."

"Calm down. It will be _fine_." Nick looks at me and nods towards the main party. "Are you ready to start moving? We haven't got much time. You know doctors. They're into all that go-to-bed-early bullshit."

Demi rolls her eyes at him. "You are so stereotypical, it is unbelievable. I do not even know why I bother to tell people that you're a good guy," she mutters.

I look between them and sigh internally. The usual Nick is back, taunting people and making jokes at the expense of everything and everyone in sight. Every time I allow myself to think that there is some kind of breakthrough and he isn't as bad as I once thought, he manages to crush it with a few simple words.

Nick nudges me. "Let's get moving, princess."

I follow him back in to the main party. He walks determinedly through the crowd and finds his brother. He pats him on the back and smiles around at Joe's friends.

"Good evening, fellas."

Joe smiles slightly at Nick. "You boys remember my little brother, Nick, right?" He catches my eye and smiles. "And, of course, Demi's best friend, Miley."

The men surrounding Joe all nod their heads in recognition.

"So, you all work with Joe?" Nick asks.

One man nods. "He's one of the best in the hospital."

"I'm sure he is. My brother the genius," Nick replies. "Speaking of geniuses, Miley here is actually a lawyer. In fact, she graduated in the top ten percent of her class at NYU. Interesting work, I hear."

Oh my goodness, could he be any more obvious?

The one who had spoken before raises his eyebrows. "Oh, really? My brother is a lawyer, too. Maybe you know him? He's a junior partner at Tucker & Dove."

As if I know every lawyer in the city.

"Our paths have probably crossed at some point," I answer with a tight smile.

He sticks out his hand. "I'm Liam," he says.

"Miley."

"So I've been told," he answers with a wink. "Hey, can I get you a drink?"

"No, I –"

"She'll take a glass of champagne," Nick interrupts.

Liam nods and shoots me a smile. "I'll be back in a minute." He then disappears into the kitchen in search of the champagne.

"I don't want a drink," I hiss at Nick.

"Just go with it. We're testing this guy."

"Why on earth would he need to be tested?"

He smirks at me and shakes his head. "You really are clueless, and you also need to learn how to trust the expert. Let me give you your money's worth. You have to see how interested he is."

"But –"

I can't reply, because Liam reappears beside me and hands me one of the two glasses of champagne in his hands.

"So, how long have you known Demi?" he asks.

"Oh, she and I have been friends since we were kids. We've done everything together for as long as I remember: high school, college, everything. I was actually her maid of honour at her wedding."

His face brightens in recognition. "I knew I remembered you from somewhere! The wedding!"

"Ah, so you were a guest at the wedding. I take it that you just know Joe from the hospital?"

"Actually, he and I went to med school together. Now we work at the same hospital. Funny how small the world is. He's really happy about the baby, huh?"

"Oh, the whole family is!" I reply, maybe a tad over-enthusiastically. I glance at Nick out of the corner of my eye and notice him observing my interaction with Liam. I internally roll my eyes and focus my attention back to Liam.

"What about you? No family of your own yet?"

I shake my head. "No, not quite yet. I'm hoping to settle down soon, but I just haven't met the right guy."

"I'm surprised a beautiful woman like you hasn't found anyone yet," Liam responds with a wink.

I feel my cheeks flush slightly, and I look away. I have never been one to take compliments well, but I find his blatant flirting, despite being what I came here in search of, slightly embarrassing and even awkward.

Nick pops up at my side again and gently takes hold of my elbow. "Excuse us for a moment, doc." He then steers me back into the kitchen, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure that Joe and his friends are out of earshot.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"You aren't supposed to tell him that you hope to settle down, princess."

"And why not? What is the point in pursuing someone who doesn't want the same things I want? It makes more sense to make my intentions clear from the outset rather than waste time with someone who isn't looking for the same things as me!"

"No, it doesn't. Men don't want to be told on meeting a woman that she wants to settle down. Do you _want _to scare him off?"

I scowl at him and put my untouched glass of champagne down on the kitchen counter. "I thought you were supposed to be helping me out here!"

"I am helping you. If you just do what we talked about and do as I tell you to, you will be settled down in no time. But at no point did I tell you to inform the guy of your intentions."

I shake my elbow, which he still has a gentle grip on, free and make my way back towards the living room. "Fine, I'll do as you say. Let's return to the party now, shall we?"

He trails behind me as I make my way back towards Joe and Liam. Liam smiles when he sees me and takes a step closer.

"We were wondering where you had gotten to."

"Sorry about that. Pregnancy emergency with Demi," Nick lies, sending a charming smile in Liam's direction.

Joe looks at his brother, alarmed. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Hormones."

Joe relaxes slightly and lifts his beer to his mouth. "That woman is driving me insane with her hormones. I love her to death, but she has more ups and downs than a freaking rollercoaster."

"I heard that, Joseph." Demi appears beside her husband and glares up at him. "Why don't you spend less time talking about my hormones and more time actually helping me? For example, finally getting around to painting the nursery."

He groans. "Dem, why can't we just hire somebody to do that crap for us?"

"Because I want us to do this for our child!" Demi turns away from her husband and smiles warmly at Liam. "Hi, Liam. I see the boys have introduced you to my friend, Miley."

"Yes. She's quite the charmer."

Nick scoffs, but is quickly silenced by Demi elbowing him sharply in the stomach. "Yes, she certainly has her own quirky little charms," she says with a wink at me. "She's a busy woman, though. Hard to keep up with."

"I think I can manage," Liam replies, smiling at me.

I smile back at him. Liam is everything I have been searching for in this quest for someone to settle down with. He has a good job. He is handsome and smart and charming. He was what most women would call perfect. Two weeks ago, _I_ would have called him perfect. I know I should be counting my blessings that the search for a man could be over as quickly as it started. But now that he's standing in front of me, I still feel like I should be searching for more.

Liam keeps the conversation light and continues chatting until the party starts to cool down. Before I know it, I glance at the clock above the fireplace and see that it's past midnight.

"I should get going," I say, grabbing my coat from the back of the couch.

"Hey, wait," Liam answers. He reaches for my hand and turns me around to face him. "It was great talking to you tonight, Miley."

"You too. It was lovely meeting you."

"I don't think I can let you walk out that door tonight without giving me your number." He smiles a smile that would make almost any woman on this planet swoon. "I want to see you again."

"I –"

"Go out to dinner with me."

"Like a date?"

"If that's what you want."

I notice the nervous expression on his face. It strikes me that this man – the perfect man – has probably never had to wait for a response when asking a woman out before. It also makes me wonder why I am hesitating to say yes.

"I – Well, I suppose that would be nice."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," he jests.

"No, I am." I smile warmly at him and reach into my purse. I pull out one of the small business cards that I usually give to clients and slip it into the breast pocket of his jacket. "There. That has all my details on it."

"Thanks. I'll call you, okay?"

"Sounds perfect." I lean up and kiss his cheek tentatively. "I'll see you for dinner soon, then."

I then walk to the door, where Nick is talking to his mother.

"Miley!" Denise exclaims. "Did you have a good night?"

"It was great. Thanks for inviting me, Denise." I smile as she wraps her arms around me in a giant hug. "You certainly have a talent when it comes to these parties. This was an even greater success than their engagement party."

"Thank you, honey. I –" She spots someone over my shoulder. "Excuse me for a moment, I have to say goodbye to my sister." She then disappears back into the living room.

"Success with Doctor Boy, huh?"

"We're going to dinner some night. I gave him my number."

Nick nodded. "Who would have thought that you would have found someone so soon, huh?"

"I suppose I only have you to thank."

He grins. "Hm, I suppose you do." He chuckles and opens the front door. "You need a ride home?"

"Do you mind?"

"Nah, it's on my way." He raises a hand to say goodbye to his parents and ushers me out of the house. "On to stage three so early. You're something else, princess."

"Stage three?"

"Stage one was everything we did to make you not look like the uptight librarian from my high school. Stage two was finding a guy. Hence we've moved on to stage three."

"Which is?"

Nick's grin widens as he unlocks the car. "The first date."

I climb into the car and lean my head against the seat. I know I should be happy that Nick helped me find someone so quickly, and I know that I should feel some sort of gratitude. But I still feel like there's more than we are already between Nick and me. Whether it's some sort of friendship or just a working relationship, I feel something I didn't expect to feel on learning that my time working with Nick might not be as long as we once thought.

Disappointment.


	5. Chapter 5

"I can't do this. I cannot do this."

Demi sits in the chair on the other side of my desk and raises her eyebrows at me. "So you missed Liam's call. Big deal. Just call him back. I'm sure that he'll be delighted to hear from you!"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say back to him!"

"Calm down. Just be yourself."

"Being myself was what got me into this mess in the first place. If I hadn't been myself, I would never have needed Nick's help," I snap. I close my eyes and glance at the phone. "I could always pretend I didn't get the message."

"And miss a date with Liam? Sweetie, if I weren't married …"

"Not the time for your pregnant sexual urges, Demi!"

She takes her phone from her jacket pocket and brings up Nick's contact profile. "Okay, I'm going to have to call in the reinforcements." She lifts the phone to her ear and drums her fingers impatiently on the table.

"We do _not_ need to bring him into this!"

"Nick, hi!" Demi smiles at me, and leans back in the chair. "I'm actually in Miley's office right now. Are you busy?" She waits for his response and grins. "Perfect! Could you come over here right now? We need your help with something."

She nods (does she realise he can't actually see her nodding?) as he responds, then hangs up.

"He's on his way."

I bury my face in my hands and shake my head. "I cannot believe that you just called Nick."

"Isn't this what you're paying him for?"

"He thinks that I'm pathetic enough as it is!"

"And why does it matter what my brother-in-law thinks? Tell him to keep his opinions to himself, and you focus on this date with the hot doctor."

"Demi …"

"Relax! It's a phonecall, then a dinner date. You're just getting your money's worth with darling Nick."

We both stare at the phone in silence. I will Liam to call back in my mind to try and prevent the inevitable obligation of having to awkwardly call him back, but obviously the phone doesn't ring, and I'm left staring at the phone like an idiot.

The office door thumps open, and Demi and I both dart our gazes to the entryway.

Nick kicks the door shut behind him and slumps down in the chair beside Demi. "Hello, ladies. What can I help you with today?"

"You got here fast."

"I was nearby. So, what's the problem?"

"The doctor called."

"Did he now?" Nick asks with raised eyebrows. "I smell desperation."

"Liam is _not_ desperate."

"You would be surprised, princess." Nick picks up the Post-It note with Liam's number on it. "What's the problem? Call him back. Not a big deal. Can I leave now?"

"I don't know what to say!" I reply, exasperated by his lack of understanding.

"How about, 'Hey, let's bang'?"

I glare at him across the desk. He's just as immature as he has been all along. To think I had been foolish enough to believe that Nick and I had made some progress at his parents' party …

"Hey, I'm kidding. Chill." He crosses his arms over his broad chest and observes me carefully. "Okay, princess, here's what we're going to do. Dial Lover Boy's number."

"But –"

"Just do it."

I snatch Liam's number back from Nick and reluctantly dial it in on the phone. Nick grabs the stack of sticky notes from beside the phone and takes a pen from the holder on the desk. He motions for me to put the phone on speaker.

After a few rings, Liam picks up.

"I was beginning to think that you weren't going to call me back."

Demi clearly tries to hold in a squeal, whilst Nick immediately begins scribbling a note for me. He hands it to me, and I roll my eyes at the barely legible scrawl on the yellow page.

'_I think we should go to dinner – skip straight to dessert._'

Quickly realising that I'll have to say something back to Liam, I close my eyes and try to think of a response.

"Uh, sorry. I had a client. You were trying to reach me?"

Nick scoffed silently at her words and started scribbling again.

'_Lame – try losing the business tone, princess._'

"Don't worry about it. I know how busy you lawyers are," Liam teases. "So, that dinner date we discussed at the party; I was hoping to set those plans in stone."

"Of course! When were you thinking?"

"Maybe Friday night, if that works for you?"

Nick thrusts another note in my face: '_Pretend to think about it. Have him chase you unless you want him to go and find a new challenge._'

"I'll just check my diary."

Nick smiles and winks over at me. He rustles some papers on the desk to make it seem like I'm flicking through my planner.

"Friday night seems open."

"Great! I can pick you up from your place at seven thirty?"

"Perfect."

"See you Friday, Miss Miley."

I smile. "See you Friday."

I hang up and put the phone down on the desk.

"Was that really so bad?" Demi asks.

I shrug. "It could have been." I turn to Nick and say, "Thank you. If you weren't here, that phonecall probably would have been a disaster."

"I need to work for my income," he responds. "Now, let's discuss Friday night."

"I think the date is pretty self-explanatory."

"You would be surprised by what I've seen, princess." Nick stretches his legs out nonchalantly and whips out his phone. He scrolls through some photos and then shows me an image of a large woman wearing a ghastly orange dress. "Some women seem to think that dressing like _this_ will somehow get them a second date." He turns to Demi. "I'll trust you to handle the clothes."

"I can choose my own clothes, thank you."

"Actually, before I stepped in, you really couldn't." He glances at my outfit and smirks. "Glad to see you're putting those new clothes to good use, by the way. It looks way better than that pantsuit you were rockin' before."

"Excuse me? First of all, who even says rockin' anymore? This is middle school. And secondly, I didn't ask you to come here just so you could insult me a little bit more."

He ignores my comment and lifts a finger. "Okay, rule one: no scaring the dude off with your talk of white picket fences and two point five kids. The first date is supposed to consist of flirting and all that crap you women think is necessary," he orders. "Secondly, although partially related to rule one, keep the conversation light. If you start a depressing conversation about world hunger or the lack of a cure for cancer, Doc is going to run a mile."

"I understand that it probably doesn't come easily to you, but that is what the rest of us like to call 'adult conversation'."

"He's right, Mi. Do you think I'd be married and pregnant right now if Joe and I had discussed the Just War theory on our first date? No. You need to do what Nick says and keep it light if you want it to go any further," Demi injects.

"I can keep it light."

"You can't even have a conversation without putting in some fancy-ass word you learned in law school," Nick answers.

"Of course I can!"

"Whatever you say, princess." He unfolds his arms and leans on the desk. "Now, onto the next rule. Whatever you do, you cannot sleep with him on the first date. He'll be lucky if he can even get a kiss. You have to make him work for it."

"What kind of woman do you take me for?"

"Again, you would be surprised with the kind of women I have had to deal with before. If you sleep with him on the first date, what's left? He'll have had his fill without having time to get to know you, so he'll be out the door before you can count to ten."

"I have no intention of sleeping with Liam on Friday night, Nick."

Demi lifts her hand to interrupt again. "Sleeping with someone on the first date isn't always a bad thing. Joe and I slept together on the first date, and look at us now!."

"Because you had been sniffing around each other like a pair of dogs for weeks before you finally made the time to have your first date," Nick says drily. "Don't forget that my brother told me _everything_ about it, whether I wanted to hear it or not."

"You should learn not to get on the bad side of the pregnant woman, Nicholas," Demi growls.

Nick ignores her and turns back to me. "How many guys have you slept with anyway?"

"_Excuse _me?"

"It's a simple question!"

"And a damn personal one!"

It isn't as though I'm ashamed of my sexual past. There's nothing dangerous or shocking or incredibly dirty. If anything, it was all rather standard. There was nothing overly kinky or perverse for me to feel sheepish about. Maybe the thing holding me back from telling Nick how many guys I've been with is the fact that I know how he is; he can be a chauvinistic pig. Perhaps I'm just scared that he'll mock my lack of experience or that, although he's never mentioned it, his long list of skanks who have strutted in and out of his bedrooms with false hopes and expectations of what he can actually offer them will make me seem like an even more sad and lonely woman.

It does not take a genius to work out that Nick has been with a lot of girls. No one gets as confident or cocky as Nick without marking a few notches on the old bedpost. He's probably one of those men who views sex casually, like there doesn't have to be any emotional attachment involved.

But I'm not like that. I believe that, when two people are connecting on such an intimate level, there can't _not_ be an emotional connection. How can someone detach themselves from that situation and act like there are no feelings for that other person? For that reason, I restrain myself when it comes to sex. I don't go out and get drunk and sleep with random strangers for one night. I don't sleep with someone after I've only known them for a matter of days. That kind of connection should be reserved for someone who values and respects you enough to understand your views. Someone who loves you so much that they are willing to make a commitment to you on some level.

Maybe I'm just scared that Nick will shrug off my admittedly-rather-conservative views.

"It's just a number," he answers with a slight smirk.

And there it is, ladies and gentlemen. The reason that Nick and I could never work, even if the mild attraction I have was mutual. If he can't understand how personal a subject sex is, how can he appreciate the fact that it's sacred to me?

"So is the age that my menstrual cycle began, but I'm not firing out that information either, am I?"

Demi snorts and quickly covers her mouth to hide her reaction.

He glares at her over his shoulder, then looks back to me. "I can't help you if you don't give me answers, princess."

"And this answer is irrelevant to your job, don't you think?"

He leans back in his chair, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Well, I'll admit that I'm proud of the fact that you're letting your hair down a little and even cracking a few jokes here and there." He rises to his feet and heads towards the door. "Anyway, I helped with what you wanted me to. My job here is finished for today."

"Thanks for coming," Demi says.

He smiles and nods his head at her. "It's what I'm here for." He glances back at me and winks. "You and I need to have another meeting before this date of yours, princess."

"About what, exactly?"

"You really thought I'd let you go on your first date with the doc on your own?"

Nick opens the door and casually strolls out, his laughter following him as he makes his way up the hall with such self-assurance and level-headedness that he oozes calm and confidence.

"What is he planning?" I murmur.

Demi smirks as she too rises to her feet, lifting her purse and heading in the same direction as her brother-in-law.

"You know, I'm not quite sure, but I sure as hell can't wait to find out."

Not for the first time, my stomach bubbles with nerves at the thought of Nick's next step in the plan. His plans have a habit of either being completely not my style, or else completely and utterly insane.

I have a feeling that his latest one will be the latter.

* * *

**I'll admit that I'm not exactly proud of this chapter, but I really wanted to get something out for you all quickly. I spent weeks beginning the chapter and deleting it because I thought it was awful, then just repeating that cycle over and over. Eventually, I just settled because I thought it was unfair to make you wait any longer.**

**Hope everyone is having a fantastic summer!**


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